Resolutions
by Quila
Summary: Alone in his office, Severus Snape contemplates the occurrences of the last school year, wondering about his part in it all. Set during the summer after Harry's 5th Year.


**Title:** Resolutions  
**Author's E-Mail:**  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Alone in his office, Severus Snape contemplates the occurrences of the last school year, wondering about his part in it all. Set during the summer after Harry's 5th Year.  
**Notes:** I'm thinking about making this series. Like..also having some of Dumbledore's, Harry's, or maybe even Lupin's thoughts on what had happened. Un-beta'd.

- - -

His thoughts meandered around what had occurred during the last year. Not only that, but what he had done before it to help prevent the big occurrence. No, he hadn't known what was going to happen. He was not the person to believe in the inaccurate study of Divination, but it wasn't as if he wasn't able to tell where things were going. The boy was so typical; running into things blindly and not even picking up on the clues. Did he expect for everyone to blatantly tell him what to do? If that was so, then the world was not as safe as they all had hoped.

A long sigh cut across the silence of the room as the sallow man leaned over his desk, a long quill in his hand, dripping with the red ink he used when correcting papers. His mind was not focused on the end-of-the-term essays in front of him, though, but instead on the boy he knew he could no longer loathe so eagerly. Oh, he didn't mean he couldn't still have that emotion, but he knew he would have to push aside his negative feelings if the two wanted to get anywhere useful. While he was not one to ever blame things on himself unduly, he knew the results of the private lessons was partially his fault. 

_"Are you stupid, Potter? Get up! This is not a hard concept."_

Perhaps if he had taken the time to go over the basics of the subject than things would have been more smooth- or as smooth as it could be when two people who loathed each other must work together so intimately. _Intimately._ Now that was a word he would rather not want to think about when also thinking about Potter. 

The look of disappointment upon the Headmaster's face was still fresh in his mind. _"Severus, you must not act so childishly in the future. What has the boy, not his father, ever done to you?"_ Of course he hadn't been given the time to respond- when was he ever?- but there many things he wanted to say. The boy- yes, younger Potter and not his father- was just as foolish and stupid and arrogant as James. Was he the only one that could see this? The man slammed his fist down on the solid desk, briefly ignoring his plan of just a few minutes ago to move past his loathing of the boy.

But, he must digress. How many times had his sharp tongue the cause of the boy's words and actions? How many times had he not waited for a response- like the ones he himself always wanted- before throwing him out in a flurry of anger? He shook his head, the lank locks of inky black hair swingy in front of his face. He mustn't make excuses now, it was too late.

_"Too late? Oh, Severus..why must you be so pessimistic?"_

"I assure you, I am not pessimistic. I am simply being realistic."

He had been awarded with a saddened, if not slightly amused look. It was too late, though, for now what could be down? The foolish boy would no doubt come back the next year still mourning the loss of what he wanted to consider his only parent-figure. He would be so wrapped in his _own_ pain to notice that the mutt wasn't the only adult out there who loved him. Honestly, anyone could see that the boy had practically become the eighth Weasley child. How could he not notice that? And that was why the man considered him as nothing less than self-centered.

Another sigh was released and the dark brown, almost black eyes, of the Potions Master squeezed shut for a second as he tried to force back the flash of irritation he still got when thinking about the last request that was made when he had gone to visit his employer.

_"Oh, and Severus?"..._ He had looked back, an eyebrow raised, almost daring the old man to order him to do something, _..."I do believe it would be best if you continued those lessons..."_ Of course he had tried to reject the idea. Quite profusely, he may had, for he wasn't the only who had been promised something should he fail at teaching Potter. He too had been told that if he was unable to do as asked, Albus himself would take over the teachings. 

_"Albus, you cannot be serious! You swore to me that I would not have to do this again!" His arm swung out in a show of irritation, carelessly knocking off a few of the Headmaster's precious ornaments. There was a pleasing crash of glass before he continued, "I trusted you to relieve me of such duties."_ He had taken that moment to look up and it was then he noticed how old the man was. There was a sense of an age unknown in his eyes and he had a feeling that this wasn't the first time the Headmaster had heard those words or seen those actions. 

_"I apologize Severus," were the soft, tired words spoken, "But I must ask this of you.."_

He had left quickly, after only delivering a sharp nod knowing he did not have a choice in this matter. And now..now he was back in his office, pondering over what he was to do. He had dwelled enough on the past and it was now time to think about what could be done. The boy, a child still, actually, needed to be taught for now everyone was at stake. What if the Dark Lord were to enter his mind and find out who had attempted to teach him Occlumency? If that happened, then his spying days were over. In fact, he was sure that if he were to be found out, all his days would be over. 

The pale, potion stained hand clenched harder around the quill at that thought. No, he didn't particularly fear death, but if he were to die, who would take his position? It was not a safe job for anyone and no doubt would not be suitable for anyone but a person with great Slytherin cunning. Who, in his family of Slytherins, would be able to take the spot? Who would even want to? Very few of them didn't have plans in following their father's or mother's in taking the step to receive the Dark Mark. Yet, the ones who did not want to do such a thing were not outgoing enough, and should he say it?- not brave enough. His grip relaxed with another sigh- this time delivered through clenched teeth- and thought to himself, _Yes, this boy will definitely need to be taught. And I shall have to be the one to do it._


End file.
